Tree'd
by Tifaching
Summary: Dean's hit by an adorable curse.


"Get down, Dean!" Sam yelled, but he was just a whisker too late. Dean was only halfway to the ground when the flash of orange stripey light washed over him. It all happened so quickly that Sam couldn't quite follow the action, but instead of Dean lying stunned in the dirt in front of him, the beam of his flashlight illuminated a tiny ball of ginger fur.

Sam barely had time to process the fact that his brother was a kitten, when Dean's miniscule ears flattened to his skull and  
his tail puffed up to about five times its normal diameter. Sam didn't need to be told twice and he dropped instantly, firing as he did. The bolt of light passed over him, and his bullet hit its mark; the undead voodoo priest no match for the power of the Colt.

"Thanks, man," Sam said, sitting up. He waggled his fingers in the universal kitten language that meant _hey, don't you want to come play?, _but Dean's ears didn't come up, his tail didn't deflate, and he added an arched back to his repertoire. It was dead silent in the cemetery and Sam knew good and well his brother could hear him as he whispered, "here, kitty kitty. Here kitty Dean."

Dean's eyes narrowed and his response was, in turn, perfectly audible to Sam. His lips drew back from tiny canines and a series of spitting breaths escaped his throat. Sam fought to keep from laughing as he realized that Dean was trying to hiss at him and rolled to his knees, keeping his brother flush in the center of the flashlight's golden glow. He reached out and Dean, back still arched, tail still puffed, hopped backward three steps and damn, but if that wasn't the most adorable thing Sam had ever seen, he wasn't sure what was.

"Come on, Dean," Sam wheedled, wishing he had a saucer of milk. "It's late and I'm tired and I don't think you're going to be much help burning the body." He got to his feet and took a step toward Dean, who immediately turned and leapt for the trunk of a nearby tree. "Shit!" Sam cried lunging forward, and managing to brush his brother's silky fur before needle-like teeth sank deeply into his index finger. "Ow!" he yelled, even more loudly as he helplessly watched Dean skitter up the trunk and settle himself precariously on one of the top branches.

Sam glared up and the kitten glared back. "I swear to God, Dean, if I have to come up there and get you…" Sam stopped and held his breath as Dean stretched along the branch and his tiny claws lost their grip. Leaves rustled as he dropped to the next branch down, almost missing it, but managing at the last second to snag it and drag himself up. He huddled near the trunk and plaintive, wailing, high pitched meows split the night.

"Don't move, Dean," Sam ordered, studying the tree. It wasn't terribly tall, but the branches were thin and Sam wasn't sure they'd support his weight. He couldn't listen to his brother make that noise and not do everything in his power to help him, though. "I'm coming."

Sam set the flashlight at the base of the tree, its beam just strong enough to reach the branch where Dean clung so desperately. There was a solid looking branch a foot or so above Sam's head and he gave a rare breath of thanks for his height as he reached up to grab it. His feet scrabbled for purchase as he hauled himself up until his boots were firmly planted on its thickness and he was reaching for the next outgrowth that would bear his weight.

It seemed to take forever for Sam to reach his brother, but in reality, it was only a matter of minutes. As soon as Sam was close enough, Dean hurdled from the branch, claws latching onto the front of Sam's t-shirt and digging painfully into his chest. Sam reached up to dislodge him, but Dean's eyes were squeezed shut and a low buzzing was vibrating from his fragile ribcage. Sam contented himself with supporting Dean's almost non-existent weight to minimize the drag on his skin.

Getting down out of the tree one handed was a tricky proposition, but Sam took his time, mindful of the damage one slip could cause. Getting crushed between Sam's bulk and the trunk of a tree would be the end of his brother.

Sam breathed a deep sigh of relief when they were back on solid ground and tucked Dean into his jacket pocket. "Now, stay right there," he instructed, grabbing the duffle with the salt and lighter fluid in it. "I'll be damned if I'm chasing you up any more trees tonight." Dean settled in with an agreeable _meep, _and Sam set the ex-zombie ablaze and got the hell out of Dodge.

Sam stopped at an all night market, Dean still contentedly purring in his pocket, to pick up milk, a small aluminum pan and a bag of cat litter. The other victims of the curse had only stayed transformed for forty eight hours, so his supplies should outlast his brother's need for them.

Sam pulled a lace from his boot and amused himself for the next few hours by sliding it across the floor and watching as Dean pounced and batted at it. Finally, exhausted, he picked his brother up and settled him onto the pillow near his head. Dean put one small paw on Sam's cheek and licked his nose with a raspy pink tongue before curling up in a ball and falling instantly to sleep. Sam stroked a finger along Dean's head, grinning as the tiny ears twitched. He dropped off not long after, Dean's buzzing purr soothing him into slumber.


End file.
